


My First Whumptober!

by hockeylass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Adventures, Danger, Family, Found Family, Gen, Homeless Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, Hypothermia, Irondad & Spiderson, Kidnapping, Peril, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Sick Peter Parker, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeylass/pseuds/hockeylass
Summary: I’ve never done Whumptober and I don’t know if I’ll manage to do all 31 tales but please enjoy this series of one-shots in which I try to come up with original content from age-old tropes!!Comments always welcome :)
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85





	1. Let’s Hang Out Sometime

There’s something to be said for being able to dangle wherever you like. It’s very cool, and Peter’s practically the only person in the world who can, literally, hang out. 

Since the spider bite gave him his amazing powers, he’s enjoyed testing them, for the most part. Getting over a fear of heights - check. Climbing up walls - check. Clambering on the ceiling - check. Lifting tons of concrete - check. Sticking to the outside of a plane and a spaceship - check. Saving the planet - check.

Thanks to his webs, dangling is a bonus power he has, and on occasion he finds it quite nice to let the blood rush to the head and let gravity do its worst on elongating his bones and muscles, loosening everything up and realigning everything. It’s even helped him gain some great grades on his science projects - the best ideas seem to come up when he’s dangling.

But when he wakes up and he’s upside down, it doesn’t feel great at all.

Once he’s realised - a small window is at the bottom of his vision, drops of moisture are flying upward - he starts to register the pressure in his brain, the pain in his body, the numbness in his feet. Craning his head to look up is a gargantuan effort and he wonders just how long he’s been here. He sees his ankles are shackled with thick cuffs. He tries to lift his body - if he can just reach up, he’d be able to prize them open with his hands. But as he tries, he realises his hands are shackled to the floor with chains, swollen and practically useless by the blood pooling in them. 

He grunts with the effort, would have spoken had his mouth co-operated. He feels the nausea rise, his head and eyes now pounding with the pressure of being suspended. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice says from behind him.

Peter tries to speak, but his mouth just isn’t co-operating. He grunts furiously.

“Thought you’d like this, Spider-Man,” the voice says. “That’s what spiders do, isn’t it?”

Peter sees two feet appear in front of him, beat up steel cap boots, dirty jeans. The man crouches down. 

“Well then, you don’t look so good. I guess you’re a fraud then, not a spider at all?”

Peter tries to get a look at him, but the pressure in his eyes is giving him double vision and all he can tell is that the man is a heavy smoker. He stinks. 

He grunts again.

“Now I’ve told your friend, mentor, whatever, Stark, that I have you. I’m hoping you can be a bit of leverage for me.”

Peter slowly tries to form words. “What...you….want?”

“Money. Come on Spidey, if it’s about Stark it's about money. He took my job from me, I lost my home, my wife, my kids, thanks to his “heroics” - I want my family back and I can do that with money.”

Peter tries to roll his eyes but has a hard time. Everything hurts. Breathing hurts.

“How….long?”

“Have you been here or until you die?” the man says, coldly. Before Peter has the chance to try to nod, he ambles on. “I snagged you last night, it’s about 10am. You’ve lasted longer than I thought to be honest. Most people die within a few hours. Maybe your superpowers are saving you?”

Peter wriggles in a futile stab at resistance.

“Save your energy kid, you’ll need it.” A cigarette stub, still smoking, lands by his face and footsteps fade into the distance. “I’ve told Stark he’s not got long to wire me the money,” the voice says as the door shuts behind him.

Back in the silence, Peter wonders if he’ll ever want to dangle again after this. 

_I'll just shut my eyes_ , he thinks, and darkness envelopes him.

\-------------------

When Tony Stark gets the message from the man - a man he’s never met but who he has apparently ruined - his initial reaction is apathy. Another day, another demand for cash. 

But when he says he has Spider-man held hostage, he was immediately into action, the nanosuit wrapping around his body and moulding to his now bionic arm.

Rhodey, ever a companion, suited up immediately, as did Falcon and Bucky, making their way from the compound towards Manhattan.

“FRI, we got a location on that call yet,” he says from the comms. He’s not flying as fast as he’d like, it's been two years since he last took to the skies in the famous red and gold.

_“Working on it sir, going to be another 30 seconds or so, I'd advise continuing your current course though.”_ He’s immediately trapped in his thoughts but FRIDAY’s voice soon pulls him back out. _“Sir, I have a match, it’s an old office building due for renovation just north of Harlem, sending co-ordinates.”_

The relief is palpable. All he has to hope for is that Peter isn’t hurt in any way, although he knows he has him captured, so he has to have been immobilised somehow. He shudders within the suit.

With his three-man team in tow, Tony redirects them towards Harlem and to the office building sitting between busy shops and residential blocks. They land on the roof. 

“FRI, scan for heat signatures.”

_“Two detected. Both in the basement it seems. You can get in through the fourth floor - there's a broken window.”_

The four make their way down to the window and then begin the descent to the basement. The office space itself isn’t too dilapidated, perhaps only recently vacated, and the smell of weed from squatters is barely noticeable. The further down they go, however, the more dank and depressing it became. 

Moving with stealth they reach the basement, the heat signatures becoming stronger and stronger. In Tony’s HUD he sees one of them is in a star like shape, the heat mainly at the bottom of the figure. His heart begins to pound. 

He looks over his shoulder to Rhodey, who’s clearly got the same image. “Go, get him. We’ll find the guy that did this.”

Tony runs as fast as he can with the suit on, down the corridor towards a door to his left, the star-like shape getting larger and larger as he reaches the room. The door was unlocked, and he rushed through. “Oh shit, Peter, no!!” 

The boy is suspended from the ceiling, feet hip-width apart and secured with tight metal cuffs around his ankles, his wrists loosely chained to the ground. He’s clearly unconscious, maybe even dead. Putting an arm behind Peter’s head he slowly raises the boy up as far as his chained wrists will allow, but he’s entirely unsure whether it’s safe to make him upright again quickly. He’s no doctor, he has no idea. He pulls the mask from Peter’s face and his heart breaks with what he sees. His face is almost purple, eyes bulging slightly beneath the lids, blood coming from his nose, lips swollen, neck swollen. How long had he been here?

As he takes in the sight of his Peter, he hears the scuffle in the background as Sam, Bucky and Rhodey get the criminal responsible. There’s shouting, and then silence. After a short while - or it could have been hours, Tony didn’t know - the trio came through the door, criminal being dragged unconscious behind them. 

“I don’t know what to do. He’s breathing, but i don’t know what to do,” Tony pleads.

“It’s OK Tony we’ll see him right,” Sam says, taking his gloves off to take Peter’s pulse, which is way too fast. “You did the right thing just holding him up for now. Bucky get these cuffs off his hands and then you and Rhodey get the ankle cuffs off and lower him down as slowly as you can.”

Once the boy has been released, the team set about trying to restore the colour in his face to something near normal. They all agreed flying him to the medbay and the changes in air pressure would probably do more harm than good. 

“He’s going to be OK, Tony,” Sam says, reassuringly. “You’d better call May.”

Tony obliges, sending May a call - she’d not even known he was missing owing to her double shift, much to her guilt. “He shouldn’t fly back, Tony, his organs will be under too much strain right now,” she says. “I’ll get an ambulance to collect him, bring him here. Just get everyone to sign an NDA - you can do that right?”

“Course I can May, my life is a series of NDAs!” Tony finds it within him to joke. “Thanks May, just tell them to come to the address I’ll text you, we’re in the basement. Bucky will meet them outside.”

All they could do now was wait. May text Tony saying it would be there as soon as possible, so it was just a case of hoping.

The four Avengers sat in silence around their fallen Spider-Man, when suddenly the silence was broken with a wet cough.

“Peter? Kiddo, can you hear me?” Tony rushes out, raising the boy’s head up slightly from his makeshift pillow of Bucky’s leather jacket. Peter is wheezing, struggling to get a breath. “Alright, alright, just relax ok you’re safe, you’re with us, you’re laying down now ok.”

As though his mouth doesn’t belong to him any more, Peter tries to respond. What should have been a “thank you” came out as an illegible mumble. 

“Shhh, shhh you’re ok now, we’ve got you,” Sam says, rubbing the boy’s leg. “No more dangling for a while though eh?”

Peter musters a weary smile, before his eyes flutter close again, to the sound of sirens.


	2. In the hands of the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: In the hands of the enemy
> 
> “Pick who dies”/collars/kidnapped
> 
> Hope you like!

With his earbuds loudly playing his favourite tunes, Peter walks through the door of their apartment and throws his backpack to the ground. He’s on autopilot, doing what he does every evening - kicking off his shoes, shrugging off his hoodie and hooking it on the back of the breakfast bar stool and grabbing an apple from the bowl on the side.

“May?” he calls inquisitively, pulling his earbuds out, suddenly realising he should’ve been enveloped in a hug right now. “May? You in?”

The silence he’s met with is immediately matched with the arrival of a tingle up his spine, the hairs on his arms standing on end. 

Instinct tells him to leap to the ceiling, and he stealthily finds himself crawling towards his aunt’s bedroom. He nudges the door ajar and finds the normally neat room in complete disarray. The window is open, clothes are strewn, bedsheets pulled to the floor in the direction of the window pane. He knows exactly what’s happened, and his heart sinks to his stomach. He grabs his phone and dials the first name on his speed dial.

“Come on, pick up pick up pick up!”

“You know my name.. Leave a message,” comes the voicemail…

“Shit.” He’s panting now.

He tries again another five times. Each with no response. Normally he’d pick up, why is he not picking up?

He dials the second name on his list. On the third ring, the call connects. 

“Kid? You with Tony?”

“No, I was trying to get hold of him, he’s not picking up and I think May’s been taken. I don’t know what to do!” Peter’s talking at a million miles an hour.

“Shit. Ok Ok. Listen can you get to the tower? I’ll get Friday to run some tests, and see if we can’t find out what’s going on. And try not to panic Pete.”

Without answering Peter hangs up, throws on his suit and launches himself from the open window in the direction of Avengers Tower.

\--------------

It’s now dark, and a storm is now raging outside, rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows to add to the panic and pain. Peter’s not coping well, Ned and MJ have come over for moral support but he doesn’t really know what to say to them. So they’re busying themselves, MJ is making coffee, Ned trying to help FRIDAY with a location. 

There’s been little to go on. Some CCTV, reports of a high-speed car chase on the outskirts of the city, the theft of a van from a car hire centre earlier that day. It’s only when the kidnappers make the schoolboy error of using one of Tony’s credit cards at a service station on Long Island that they get their first solid lead.

FRIDAY’s voice cuts through and stops everyone in their tracks. “Young boss, there’s something. I matched the card with the CCTV and I have a number plate, I’ve tracked it to a warehouse in Hauppage.”

Peter needs no prompting. Neither does Happy. “I’ll get the jet.”

“You got this Peter, go get them,” Ned says. MJ lightly punches him the arm, before kissing him on the cheek.

\--------------

When he walks into the warehouse he gets a serious sense of deja-vu from Homecoming. It’s dark, it’s abandoned but clearly recently used, slightly cold and absolutely terrifying. He’s banned Happy from coming in but has him on alert if he needs backup. He’s hoping he won’t.

Rounding the corner into the main factory floor he sees them. They’re both tied to chairs, both gagged, facing one another, both rigid with fear.

“May? Mr Stark?” he calls as he approaches. He watches their breaths hitch. As he gets closer he notices small green lights flashing near their necks.

He picks up speed, but which one to go to first? He looks at Tony, whose tear-filled eyes show panic and pain. There doesn’t appear to be a scratch on him, just sweat pouring down his brow. He takes the gag off. 

“Tony are you ok are you hurt?” he asks as he dashes the few metres away to take the gag off his aunt.

“No, but we can’t move. You release either of us and the other collar detonates. We can’t move….we can’t be moved.” Tony sounds utterly petrified. 

Peter’s looking at May’s fear-filled eyes, gently wipes a tear away with his thumb. “It’s going to be OK, May. It’s going to be OK. Just hold still, I’m gonna fix this.”

“Mr Stark, who did this to you - are they still here?”

“We were both drugged with something, I have no idea who they are. They told us about these over a loudspeaker. I don’t know how we get them off.”

Suddenly, a voice booms through the tannoy.

“Ahhhhhh Spider-Man, exactly who I needed to appear. So nice of you to join us!”

“Who are you!!” Peter shouts into space, looking frantically for some sign as to where the voice was coming from. 

“Not for you to know. But know this. I want to make you suffer. And I know you heal pretty quick so hurting you isn’t really going to make me happy. Hurting them though… that’ll BREAK you.

“So which one is it? I’m going to make you choose. Refuse, and I will shoot them both dead.” Red laser dots appear on the foreheads of both Tony and May. Peter’s trying to trace them back to the source, but they’re too far away to be picked up by his senses. This guy’s done his homework. 

“Come on now, chop-chop. I don’t have all night. Release one of them and kill the other.”

Tears begin to well up in his eyes. Looking at the pair of them, both so frightened and yet still looking at him full of love.

“Pete, save May, she’s your family and you need each other,” Tony says, resigned.

“No no, Tony’s going to keep you safe in the future far better than I ever could, and I need you to be safe,” May says through tears. “I’ve had my life. And you know… I’d get to be with Ben again.” 

“Don’t say that May, please don’t say that,” Peter cries. “And you can’t say that Tony, I need you too.”

“I’m waiting...tick tock...tick tock…” the voice interjects.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Peter screams, and as he does so a shot rings out, hitting him clean through his calf like a hot poker, sending him falling forward.

“Don’t test me, Spider,” the voice says. “Make your choice. You’ve got 30 seconds…” The sounds of a countdown clock echo through the factory.

“I can’t do this, I can’t,” Peter cries, the pain in his leg nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

Neither Tony nor May can say anything more, watching their boy’s turmoil and anticipating their impending death has sent them both into an emotional hysteria. Peter can’t think straight, the sounds of their tears and breaths and the ticking clock more than he can bear.

“Ten seconds… ten...nine...eight….

“I can’t!!”

“Seven...six...five….

“Shit”

“Four...three..two…-

BANG! The voice stops short, the ticking stalls. BANG! BANG! The two red dots fall from Tony and May’s foreheads, faint thuds are heard in the distance as bodies drop to the ground.

“Guys!” a familiar voice over the tannoy now. “You guys OK?”

“Happy???” Tony shrieks in relief. “You are getting the BIGGEST raise!”

“Yeah sure boss, whatever,” he replies sarcastically. “This guy’s dead, just FYI. I can see you, I’ll be down in a minute to get you out of here.”

“Wait!” Peter shouts. “These guys can’t move until we deactivate their collars. Does he have any sort of remote control or key or something near him?”

“I’ll grab everything I see and bring it down.”

Ever dependable, Happy brings a bundle of things that could act as a deactivation key, from the guy’s wallet, a walkie talkie, a set of keys, a cardholder, a mobile phone and more. Peter hugs the man so tight - just for knowing to come in anyway despite his orders - that Happy swears he’s cracked a rib.

Peter gets on the phone to Ned - thank God for him - and together they work through the various combinations that would work to free the two most treasured people in his life. It takes hours, and both Tony and May are truly exhausted by the end, but they work out how to unlock the mobile phone and then use a special coding app to turn the collars off and erase the threat. It’s all they need to just get them home, getting the things physically off would be for the techs at the tower.

In all the need to get them free, Peter has totally forgotten about his injured leg, and when he goes to stand, he’s overwhelmed by the black spots in his vision and passes out. Tony catches him just before he plants into the ground. 

“Shit kid you’re bleeding way too heavily.”

“It’s a scratch,” Peter mumbles, the blood loss and the adrenaline crash hitting him hard as he comes to. “I’ll sleep it off.”

“Oh no, you won’t Underoos. You’ll stay awake for me - me and Aunt Hottie here have done that so you can too.”

“Hmmm,” he hums. “Home,” he adds.

“That’s right honey,” May says, stroking his hair with her still shaking hand. “Let’s get you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I’ll be able to do tomorrow’s...but fingers crossed!


	3. Where do you think you're going?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is day five...missed two days. Oops. This messes with the conventional MCU timeline but that's mainly because I'm still not accepting the fact that Tony's not around anymore.

It was better this way.

Everything he touched went wrong, everyone he loved was in danger so long as he was around. And now, with an accusation of murder on his tail as well, it seemed as good a time as any to make a break and cut all ties. Mr Stark wouldn't miss him. MJ would find another friend... he was pretty sure Ned and May would miss him but they were strong, they could move on.

Well, that's what he's telling himself now, on a freezing cold January night, six months since he was accused of killing Beck. He's sleepy but seemingly unable to sleep, a lumpy foam mattress salvaged from a dumpster the only thing between him and the mouldy wooden floors of the old warehouse he now calls home.

It's freezing, and he cannot remember the last time he had a proper meal, and he cannot remember the last time he had a proper shower, or cleaned his teeth, or brushed his hair. He feels...well, disgusting, frankly. But mainly, he's cold. So cold, he can't feel his toes any more. It's deep in his bones, and he's not a doctor but he knows that the fact he stopped shivering a few hours ago isn't a good sign. 

He's salvaged an old radio - from the same dumpster he found the mattress - and that's providing some much-needed company, something to focus on because everything else is becoming incredibly difficult to focus on. The main topic is about the storm that made landfall two days earlier and had already dumped record levels of snow on the city. Words are floating towards him, and even though he's only able to pick out half the sentences, the droning of the presenter's voice is somewhat of a comfort.

He decides, from under his threadbare blanket, that it'd be a good idea to try to find some food, and maybe some extra layers. Even though he's not shivering, his brain is at least telling him that he needs those things. So, he throws on some jeans and a hoodie over his suit - the heater broke a long time ago on it, but the extra layer is a plus - and heads out into the white beyond.

This was his first mistake. As he walks the many blocks south to where he knows he's got the best chance of some sustenance and maybe even an accessible clothing bank, he realises he cannot feel his feet. Black and white dots, like white noise on a television set, flood into his vision and his hands, bunched into his pockets, feel like they're swollen up into sausages. They're not, but as he tries to tie the toggles of his hoodie together to secure it over his head, he realises they're just not functional.

Giving up, he continues to walk, and the walk turns into a shuffle, and a stumble, and a sway. There's no one out in this blizzard, the sound of the wind and the shivering of other homeless people the only noises he can hear.

Time seems to stretch. The wind is now in his face, burning his cheeks, and he feels himself getting warmer and warmer from inside. His useless fingers scuff the hood off his head, he pushes up his sleeves. He feels really tired, all of a sudden. As though lead weights have been placed in his shoes, lifting his feet from the ground becomes impossible.

He sees a bench, covered in snow, and thinks if he just swipes it off he can maybe have a quick nap. Just a quick one. Just so he can get enough energy to find those blankets and food. 

This was his second mistake.

The warmth continues to envelop him, and the darkness takes over.

\---------------------

"Peter?" a voice says from...somewhere. "Peter is that you?" 

He knows that voice. His eyes shoot open, his body on fire. 

"Oh my God, it IS you. Underoos, I've been looking everywhere!" Tears are now filling the man's eyes. 

Peter is so panicked. He knows that face. Knows that voice. Knows someone gave him that nickname a long time ago but the fire - the fire within him is so consuming he cannot think of anything else. He needs to cool down. The river! He'll go to the river!! 

He looks at the man. "The river." He says.

"What? Peter, you're not making any sense?"

"Too hot. The river," he thinks he says.

"You're not speaking my language, kid. Look, let's get you home."

Why didn't the man understand him? He stands up as fast as he can, that white noise his vision blinding him temporarily. He has to get to the river. He starts to walk, turning into a sort of stumbling run but he feels the fire burning and he has to stop it.

"Hey!! Pete, where do you think you're going??? Jesus!! FRI, call Happy, call May, get the Medbay on standby. I found Peter." 

He has to get to the river. He hears the swooshing sound of jets behind him, getting louder and louder. He has to get away. Has to get cold. As he reaches the water's edge he doesn't even think, just leaps off to the murky water below and the sweet relief it'll bring.

But he doesn't feel the impact. The fire still rages. Arms are underneath his, legs dangling below, wind in his face.

"Kid, I don't know what's going on with you but I'm here, I'm gonna get you some help. Just stay with me."

Well, he sounds worried. That's a bit not good. "Mmmmmm...Hot"

"FRIDAY what's going on, what's he saying?"

Who's Friday?

"Shit. Ok. Peter listen to me you're really sick, you're too cold. We're gonna get you home and warmed up OK."

He whines in disapproval. That's lies, he's way too hot.

"Your body's playing tricks on you. Do you trust me? You better trust me."

He's not sure what to think. Right now he just thinks he's in some kind of hellish dream. If someone could just put the fire out, that would be great. 

Maybe Tony will come to save him? 

That'd be nice.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like :)
> 
> Sorry about the abrupt ending though (In advance) haha

"Peter are you excited? We're gonna get back to nature, and explore, and make dens and... ahh it's gonna be great!" Ned exclaimed across the table during lunch break. "I bought this great hat, it's got these special rivets in it so the rain just slides off. Totally waterproof!"

"Sounds great Ned," Peter says, taking a mouthful of sandwich. "The weather isn't supposed to be bad though, right? I don't really have much in the way of wet weather gear..."

"Well the forecast is for like, cloudy weather but you know, anything could happen. Best to be prepared!"

A week later, those words were ringing in his head as he stood at the entrance of the woodland campsite, soaked to the skin. 

Ned came up alongside him. "You should've gotten one of these hats - my hair's still dry!"

"Great, Ned," Peter says, curls stuck to his head, raindrops dripping off the end of his nose. 

His gloomy mood is broken by the call of Mr Harrington, in charge of yet another school trip destined for disaster.

"Right, we were going to have tents, but the organisers say it's too wet for that so we've got one of the bunk cabins at the end of the campsite, head there and dump your stuff, and then we'll go out for a hike!"

"Don't you think that's a bit unwise, sir?" MJ asks from under her hood.

"Nonsense, none of you are going to melt because of the rain, so long as there's somewhere dry to warm up after. You'll feel the benefit!"

If eye-rolling was a sound, his words would have been drowned out by groaning.

Half an hour later the rain has stopped but the damage has been done. With shoes sodden and caked in mud, the group reconvenes outside the bunk.

"Right let's split into groups of three, you choose who you bundle with and then-" Mr Harrington produces laminated paper from his gilet pocket, "you can take these trails and collect samples for testing back at class. We're looking for organisms - plants and soil, insects, whatever you think would be good for testing. Between us, we should be able to map this area's ecosystems! You've got three hours!"

Ned sticks himself to Peter and nods enthusiastically for MJ to join them. Though she doesn't seem to show willingness, Peter cannot help but notice the small smile in the corner of her mouth. They head west, following a trail which is about 10km long.

The trio is enjoying a nice walk, collecting samples in the pots they’ve brought along, Peter and Ned pretending to be Ewoks in the forest, much to MJ’s entertained confusion as she sketches the beetles and worms she’s captured.. 

The rain has thankfully held off, but clearly, the previous downpour had made the going pretty slow, with muddy puddles and flooded pathways along the way - but without any prying eyes, Peter takes great delight in picking both his friends up and carrying them to avoid the murky water.

“You’re a bit of a gentleman, you know that?” MJ says, pushing a curl behind her ears as Peter blushes. “Well, no point us all getting soaked is there?” he replies as nonchalantly as he can. 

“Guys, where are we on the map right now?” Ned says, scratching his head. “It feels like we’ve been out for ages.”

MJ pulls the map from her pocket, scrunches her face. “Not sure I think about here, given I can hear the river to my left,” she says pointing at an area about 6km away from camp. “And we’ve been walking for ...two and a half hours”. 

“So we we have to find our way back and in half an hour?” Ned exclaims.

“It’ll be ok let’s just get cracking. If we have to jog for a bit I’ll just carry you!” Peter says with not a hint of pity for the boy. He knows his friend is OK with not being the most athletic of men. And he’s never too proud to have a lift under FOS conditions. “Come on let’s go.”

The trio pick up pace, MJ navigating the route but minutes in the thunder rumbles and the skies darken to a near black.

Peter feels the hairs on his neck rise up just as a flash of lightning followed by the most almighty BOOM rumbles through their ears. He instinctively leaps to his friends, pulling them to the ground.

“Shit!!!” MJ screams, rubbing the back of her head, Ned looks dazed. “Peter?”

Peter is lying on top of them face scrunched in agony, Ned moves to slip out from underneath but his friend screams.

“AHHHHH!! Ned Ned Ned please, just get it out, you gotta...you gotta get it out!” Peter pleads the last part through gritted teeth. 

As the thunder continues to rumble dangerously close and deafeningly loud MJ can’t take her eyes off him. He didn’t even look this pained after Tower Bridge.

“Peter what’s wrong?” She asks quietly. He doesn’t respond, his face growing paler by the second.

“Oh god,” Ned says. “He’s got a massive shard of tree bark in his back. Right above his kidney. The lightning must have hit a tree? What do we do, what do we do???”

“Ok ok,” MJ says, trying to stay calm. She rubs Peter’s arm, still wrapped round her waist. “Shall I move?”

“No!” Peter yelps. “Ned pull it out now, it’s gonna heal around it.”

“Peter I can’t.”

“You have to,” MJ says,the panic setting in. “I have him.”

Ned wraps both hands around the three inch wide, foot long shard, ignoring the sting of splinters as they pierce his palms. He doesn’t know how deep it’s gone but he hopes and he prays not too far in. “Ok ok ok. Ready? On three. One...two…”

And he pulls.

Peter screams. He reacts so violently, MJ feels a rib crack, taking her breath away. 

“SHIT!!” She screams.

“It’s out,” Ned says as the movement causes him to fall backwards. All he can do is look at what’s in his hand. It’s got to have gone some four or five inches in.

Peter slumps, his full weight now on MJ, and she can feel the blood seeping down onto her own side now. She takes the best breaths she can.

Ned’s crying.

“Ned, buddy, we gotta move,” she says. “You have signal?”

He fumbles with his phone. “No the storm and the trees are too thick...I. I can’t carry him, can you help?”

“I’ll have to. But I have to get out from under him first.”

Ned snaps out of his stupor, throwing the wooden shard to the floor. With all his might he puts both arms under Peter’s and pulls him upwards, freeing MJ. 

“You have him?” She asks and he nods anxiously. “I’ll take his legs.”

Neither Ned nor MJ paid much attention to Physical Ed. Coach was a bore, MJ preferred books. Weight training was never a priority.

Oh how they wish they’d done more.

They’re struggling. Peter isn’t a heavy guy but unconscious he’s like a lead weight, not to mention awkward. MJ’s ribs are on fire, Ned’s hands are cut to smithereens and the rain is still falling hard making it all extra slippy. 

“How much further do you think we have?” Ned asks, panting.

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to worry.”

The pair descended back into silence, piling their concentration into navigating the forest pathways and cut-throughs, over logs and through ravines. 

The silence was suddenly broken by the Imperial March. 

“My phone! It has signal!!” Ned exclaims, but he realises both hands are currently occupied with keeping Peter off the ground. MJ puts his feet down and runs to Ned. “Left pocket of my backpack,” Ned says and MJs already on it. 

“Mr Stark?” She says. She puts the phone on speaker and holds it up to Ned. “Mr Stark it’s Ned’s here - Peter, he’s hurt!”

“Ok I’m on my way - what happened?”

“He saved us - there was a lightning strike right by us and I think it hit a tree cause he bundled us to the floor and then he had this massive shard of wood or bark or something right in his back! I got it out sir, but it’s bleeding pretty bad. He’s not woken up since we got it out…” Ned was rambling now. 

“Ok buddy listen I have a location, just stay where you are and I’ll be there real soon. I’ll take him back to the tower - you go let your teacher know what’s happened. Just tell them I sent a Medivac or something.”

“Yes sir, Mr Stark, sir.” 

“Listen, kid, you did good. Just stay there.” The phone disconnects.

“Hey Ned look there’s a bit of a sheltered area just over there let’s go and sit there until he shows up,” MJ says. In that moment she realises how cold she is, notes that Ned is soaked through, sees Peter shivering. 

“He’s cold. Oh god I hope he’s gonna be ok,” she says, numb.

“He always is,” Ned says. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

They carry him to the relative dry of the sheltered area, Ned propping Peter up against himself, to keep the wound from getting any more dirt in it, and to exchange body heat. MJ leans into Ned, and absent mindedly holds Peter’s hand, rubbing it with her thumb. 

As they hear the familiar sound of repulsors approach, they sigh in relief.

Tony’s suit retracts almost instantly and he crouches beside the trio.

“Underoos what have you gotten yourself into this time,” he says, running a hand through the boy’s hair with a tenderness that shocks MJ. 

“You guys ok?” He looks at them with concern.

“Not too bad Mr Stark,” MJ says. “He’s strong when he wants to be. I think I broke a rib.”

“He did?”

“Yeah he was lying on me when Ned pulled the spike out.”

Tony nods in a sort of familiar way. That he knows what’s she means. “Ned?”

“Just a ton of splinters” he says, showing him his palms.

“You both need patching up,” Tony says, matter-of-factly. He taps his glasses. “FRIDAY, Can you get Happy to come meet me at kid’s campsite. He needs to get his friends back to the tower.”

“Ok that’s sorted,” he says. “Happy will sort everything when he gets here, just sit tight and as I said, tell your teacher I’ve Medivac’d Peter to my private medical facility.”

The pair nodded in agreement. 

Tony takes that signal as his sign to allow his suit to reassemble around him. He carefully picks Peter up, bridal style and stands. 

“Take care of him,” MJ says.

“I always do,” Tony replies, as his helmet forms around his face, and he takes off.


End file.
